


Until I Can Make You Mine

by rubycrowned



Category: 1D - Fandom, One Direction (Band)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, whaddya know I can avoid angst occasionally
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-09
Updated: 2012-06-09
Packaged: 2017-11-07 08:43:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/429088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rubycrowned/pseuds/rubycrowned
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Of all the things I know for sure, you're the only certain one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Until I Can Make You Mine

**Author's Note:**

> Pure fluff written for Rhee who requested wedding fic. Based on 'Arithmetic' by Brooke Fraser. Sorry if there are a couple mistakes, it's un-beta-ed. Comments etc welcome as always :)

The soft light bounces off the thin gold band on his finger. Harry smiles and brings his hand towards his face, inspecting the fine metal, warm from his skin and the bed sheets he is still tangled in. The other side of the bed is cool, missing the heat another body usually brings.

“You don’t have to leave you know.” Harry shakes his head at Louis, convinced his boyfriend couldn’t actually be serious about this.

“Oh you know me, Harry, love; I’m a very traditional sort of guy.” Louis’ eyes are dancing as he laughingly ruffles Harry’s curls and tugs him forward to press a quick kiss to his lips, then leaping back, picking up his overnight bag and things and heading towards the door. “Don’t worry; its only one night.”

“Oh so now you’re traditional, huh? Good to know that you’re giving me a whole,” Harry glances at the clock on the living room wall, “Twenty-one hours notice of this part of your personality. Can’t imagine what would’ve happened if you’d sprung this on me after it was all a done deal.”

“What, you gonna drop me now, are you?” Louis’ grin is cheek-splitting, and Harry’s is a near match.

“Na, s’pose not. But you’re a right twat if you think you’re leaving without a proper kiss.”

Harry closes the distance between the two of them, melding Louis’ lips to his, not-so-gently pressing Louis against the wall next to the front door. Personal space was a foreign concept to the two of them since the beginning; now not even a millimetre could be found between them. The kiss deepens, tongues tangling languidly until both are panting for air.

“Harry, hey, Haz, come on now, save it for the honeymoon.” Louis pulls his face into a smirk as Harry continues to mouth along his jaw, waving the hanger in his left hand as much as was possible with Harry wrapped around him. “You’re gonna wrinkle my suit.”

Harry pulls back slightly to raise an eyebrow at Louis. “And?”

“And, do you really want to explain to Liam why I turn up tomorrow in an un-ironed suit? ‘Cause I’m sure as hell not ironing it again.” Louis contemplates the situation, continuing before Harry can tell him that Liam could sod off. “Or our mothers for that matter.”

He presses their foreheads together and loses himself in the endless green of Harry’s eyes. “Just one more day,” he whispers against Harry’s full pout.

“Fine,” Harry grumbles quietly, “I guess you better head out anyway before Zayn gets pissed waiting on you. Don’t want him storming in on us. Again.”

Louis chuckles, warm breath on Harry’s cheek. “No, I don’t think he’d forgive us another time. Right, love, I’ll see you tomorrow. I’ll be the one in the suit.” He pauses, considering. “As will the other lads...you best not grab the wrong one.”

A final swift peck on the nose, and Louis was gone out the door, calling behind him as the door swung shut.

“Just one more day!”

Harry spins the ring slowly on his finger.

Just one more day, he thinks.

One more day and then forever.

***

Harry has been glowing all morning.

He knows he’s been wearing the dorkiest expression ever, but he can’t seem to dial it down. He can’t really find himself able to care either, if he’s honest. Today he is allowed to be as happy as he wants.

He lets his mum and sister fuss over him, even lets Liam attack him with a lint roller, picking up any non-existent stray bits of fluff from his suit. His suit is black, of course; Harry might tease Louis about them being pretty much the most unconventional couple around, but they both really did want the wedding to be classic, understated. Something to contrast all the exaggerated hyperbole that was their lives.

The ceremony is to start at 2pm, and as midday approaches, Harry’s stomach gets increasingly tight and jittery. They’re good jitters though; like before they go on stage, before they step out into the spotlight and hear the fans scream until their lungs give out.

Only this is even better.

***

“Okay, so, don’t freak out or anything...”

Niall’s standing in front of Harry, walking backwards as Harry walks down the hall to wait in the room adjoining the main event. The ceremony and reception are both being held in The Langham. They have the entire fifth floor booked for the occasion; there is a ballroom decked out for the occasion, and the restaurant on the same floor is catering the evening meal. The rest of the rooms are for the guests from out of town; Harry and Louis only wanted a small ceremony, to be surrounded by friends and family who have always loved them for exactly who they are, but there are still far too many to house with them and the other lads. Security is fierce, even more so than normal; anyone and everyone is checked thoroughly against a guest list if they try to get off on their floor. Zayn had just txt him half an hour ago telling him everything had been going smoothly, almost scarily so; even Louis had been ready before time, something which was almost unheard of.

So Harry can’t figure out why Niall’s cheeks are red with consternation, hands held up, palms forward as if to defend himself from Harry. He looks to Liam, who mirrors Harry’s confusion.

Liam tries to get Niall to elaborate.

“Look Niall, I’ve already told you, no-one’s going to mind if we serve those mini-quiche things alongside the-”

“That’s really not it, Li,” Niall cuts in, hands dropping to wring them in front of him.

Harry’s face falls slightly; it takes a lot to stress out Niall, and the blonde had been almost more excited for today than Louis and Harry. They jokingly referred to him as their own personal cheerleader; Niall had been supporting their relationship almost before it had even begun, had taken such sincere pleasure in his friends’ happiness he couldn’t help spreading that joy.

“Nialler?” Harry tries to make eye contact with Niall, let him know that whatever it is, it’s okay, he won’t be mad, or upset, or whatever it is the other boy’s afraid of. “What is it?”

“Right! So he’s not in the ballroom, or the bedroom, or the bathroom. Security haven’t seen him since we went up to the roof earlier, so unless his disguises have significantly improved lately he’s still-” Zayn had rounded the corner at a light jog, and started reeling off a report as soon as he saw Niall, but comes to a halt, physically and verbally, as soon as he registers who Niall is with. “-Harry...”

Both Liam and Harry’s eyes dart between Zayn and Niall’s guilty expressions. Liam settles on narrowing his glare on Zayn, while Harry gazed wide-eyed at the Irishman, pleaded him to deny the scenario forming in Harry’s mind.

“We can’t find Louis.”

***

They split up to look for Louis. They still have twenty minutes before the ceremony is scheduled to start, so probably half an hour before people start wondering what’s going on. They all make sure they have their phones switched on and off silent so they can contact each other if – when, Harry tells himself – they find Louis. If it gets to two o’clock and they still haven’t found him, then they all will meet back in Zayn’s room, where he, Niall and Lou had gotten changed, to plan their next step.

Harry’s been looking for ten minutes now, and the worst part is that, if Louis did leave the hotel floor, then he could be anywhere. No-one could get him to pick up his cell phone; Harry had tried a few times, sent him a couple texts, left a voice message – “Babe it’s okay, it’s fine, I promise. Just...please, let me know you’re okay, yeah? – but he didn’t hold out too much hope on getting a response. Neither Zayn nor Niall could figure out exactly when he’d disappeared either, which didn’t help. Harry had mentioned, somewhat accusatorily he’d admit, that Zayn had sent the text saying everything was great not that long ago, and, while both boys present had quickly defended that that had indeed been the case at the time, they also soon established that neither could recall having seen Louis for close to quarter of an hour before that. How far could Louis have gotten since then?

Where did he go? And why?

He ends up finding Louis in the most cliché of spots; Harry has to resist rolling his eyes in disbelief that Zayn hadn’t found him in the first five minutes. He almost walks right past the closet door, certain that it would’ve been checked before and surely Louis could think of more inventive hiding spots. But there he is, knees drawn into his chest, sitting curled in the corner of what appears to be more of a cleaner’s cupboard than a closet, but still.

Louis’ listening to his iPod; his eyes are open, but refuse to meet Harry’s as he walks slowly inside, breathing a quiet sigh of relief. He closes the door behind him, throwing the room back into darkness. Only the light from the iPod gives Harry a view of Louis’ face. He very carefully sits down next to him, trying not to disturb the over-full shelves, and silently reaches out to take one of Louis’ headphones and insert it in his own ear. ‘...Don’t be scared, it’s only love, baby, that we’re falling in...’ The familiar tones of Lifehouse reach Harry’s ears and he closes his eyes to let the music wash over him, the lyrics more comforting to him than those he thought he’d find coming from the headphone. ‘...Won’t be easy, have my doubts too...’ When the song finishes, he lifts his hand to press pause on the iPod. He turns slightly to face Louis, trying to catch his eye. Eventually, Louis meets his gaze.

“What if it all goes wrong?”

Louis’ voice is quiet, and scared; it is a voice rarely heard from that mouth and one which will without fail have Harry scrambling to remove it, to fix the breaking tones which hurt them both.

“Lou, that is not going to happen. Why are you thinking things like that?” Harry doesn’t want to just brush this under the carpet; he needs Louis to speak to him, to make him understand, tell him what it is that is wrong so that when Louis smiles again, he truly believes it. The light has gone out now, inactive for too long, and they sit in silence while Harry’s eyes slowly adjust.

“I don’t deserve you.” Louis says it like a statement, a fact, and he gives Harry a small, sad smile; not the one Harry wants. “I never have. You’ve always given so much for me, for us. You stood by me through Eleanor, my fear of coming out, the backlash when we did come out. You were always the strong one, and I took everything you gave. I don’t deserve all you gave me, don’t deserve you. And what happens when you finally figure that out?”

Harry wishes he could laugh at the ridiculousness of that, at the mere idea of it. But he can see in the dim light that Louis genuinely feels this way. So instead he grips Louis’ hands between his own, lifts and presses a fierce kiss to them, eyes shining.

“I have never wanted someone the way I want you. I loved you from the start, from before I knew what that feeling was. You were, are, always will be the only person who makes me feel that way. Of that I am certain. And knowing that, that is why I did all those things. For me as much as you. Because if I didn’t stand by you, if I lost you, then that would be the end of me just as much as it would be the end of us.”

“But you’re always the one who has to-”

“No, Louis. You can’t keep score like that, not with us. Yeah, I did those things, but if you’re going to be like this, then guess what? I owe you too. I owe you for being the one who comforted me all those times when I screwed up in performances and no-one, no-one else could make me feel better. For teaching me what it means to be loved by someone with all their heart and soul. For making us wait to come out to everyone until we were ready because, Louis, I wasn’t ready. When I wanted to scream it from the rooftops? I wasn’t ready; I thought I was, but I would never have been able to handle it if it had all come out then. I would have broken, I might even have broken us. You saved us from that, so I don’t know how I could ever repay that.” Harry shrugs lightly. “I guess neither of us deserve each other.”

A ghost of a smile starts to appear on Louis’ face.

“I only see one solution; we’ll just have to be undeserving together. Forever.” Harry rubs his thumb in circles over the back of Louis’ hand. “I want you. No-one else. ‘Til death do we part. And I want everyone to know that. That’s why we’re here.”

“You know that’s what I want too.” Louis’ voice has a bit more life in it now, although thick with holding back the tears, one or two of which may have slipped out while Harry was speaking. “I was just afraid you’d realise there was someone better for you out there.”

This time Harry does shake his head at the absurdity of Louis’ statement.

“Never.” He leans in for a soft, chaste kiss, before pulling back and grinning. “I’d best txt the boys and let them know I found you. Otherwise they may be forced into drastic measures and god knows what sort of mess that’d turn into.”

Finally, Louis beams back at him, eyes sparkling now with mischief. “Zayn might get so panicked he actually tells Liam how he’s felt all this time and we’ll end up with a double wedding on our hands.”

“Well we can’t have them stealing our thunder now, can we?”

Harry pulls himself up, then turns and helps Louis up too. Intertwining their fingers, Harry tugs him back into the corridor and they wander back to Zayn’s room. The others are all already there, and jump up when they open the door. Louis blushes a little, scratching at his head guiltily.

“Jeez Lou, what were you trying to pull?” Liam’s tone isn’t accusatory, more fond frustration than anything now that Louis was found safe; they even still have a couple minutes before they absolutely have to be in the ballroom. His voice turns curious. “Where did you go anyway?”

Harry pipes up to answer this, cheeky grin back in place. “He was hiding out in a closet.”

Niall groans. “Louis. I thought we’d dragged you outta there three years ago.”

***

“I now pronounce you husband and husband.”

The wedding goes off without a hitch.

Everyone is crying; Harry never really understood that, but when Louis says his vows – You will always be the one I want, even when you go bald and lose your curls – Harry can’t help the pooling in his eyes, blurring the beloved face before him.

And when the officiant tells them they may kiss to seal the marriage, and Louis’ lips touch his, Harry feels like the final piece of his life had finally fallen into place. This was it, this was happiness, this was perfection, and this part - the warm face beneath his hands, the familiar pressure against his lips, the love which Harry couldn’t even begin to compare to anything else – this part he got to keep forever.

There is a roaring cheer of laughter when the kiss continues. But when Louis reaches around to lightly pinch Harry on the arse, Harry smirks against Louis’ lips; over top of the whoops of encouragement, he hears Zayn groan, sounding distressed.

“No! This is how it starts; please, not again!”

He’d keep. For now, Harry focuses back on the man in front, all around him, and loses himself in the moment with Louis.

***


End file.
